


Her Hair in Her Eyes, and Through It a Smile

by Diaphenia



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: 4x13, Gen, Season/Series 04, minor spoilers for movies, platonic movie dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2018-10-18 16:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10620285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/pseuds/Diaphenia
Summary: April, Andy and Chris go to the movies





	

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from LJ
> 
> **Spoilers:** Minor, minor ending spoiler for a movie you are not going to see because unlike me, you did not get stuck watching it on Christmas instead of War Horse, not that that one turned out good either
> 
> **Original Author’s Note:** rikyl always lets me know when things get accidentally porn-ish, and americnxidiot translated for me and any errors should reflect on me, and not her. 
> 
> This was a fic that didn’t mean to happen. I have a piece coming up very soon, for which I needed a throw-away line, and when I asked tumblr what movie this trio saw, I kept thinking, I would read that fic until I ended up writing that fic. This became an accidental prequel. 
> 
> The title is taken from Victor Hugo’s ‘Elle était déchaussée, elle était décoiffée’
> 
> **Current Author's Note:** I wonder what the hell I thought this was a prequel to? I think it had to do with Tom. Hope that was helpful. 
> 
> Maybe it was the April/Chris I can't remember if I ever wrote? Did I write that? Was it a fever dream?
> 
> On re-read, I think it was Tom and J-R throwing a party, possibly with Leslie. Anyway.

April realizes too late that being nice to Chris means she’s going to have to sit through _Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked_ because god forbid the Pawnee Monoplex show a movie that’s not on dvd already.  
  
But it’s fine, really, because even though it’s kind of awkward, trying to not talk to Chris before the movie, she sneaks a few 40s into her purse and pulls them out before the first squeaky-voiced rodent can crack wise. She and Andy take a swig, to the shock of Chris.  
  
“I’m entirely certain,” he whispers, glancing around like a mall cop is going to pop up at any moment, “that this is against the rules.”  
  
“Shut up,” April hisses, leaning across Andy’s lap to shove a can at Chris. “Just… be cool.” Andy pushes down on her slightly, because apparently he’s worried he’s going to miss something, and April has to focus on not falling off his lap, so she would have completely missed Chris opening it if she didn’t hear him murmur “one can’t hurt.”  
  
The movie is ridiculous, and she sips every time something dumb happens and she ends up pleasantly buzzed forty-three minutes in. And what is the point of casting celebrity voices and then putting them though a synthesizer? It’s dumb, but it beats sitting at home watching Ben stare off into space or whatever.  
  
When the movie’s over—and the ending is a total surprise because the movie for kids ends with everything working out and those rodents getting off the island—she tries to hustle Andy out of there. But Andy has to clap at the end, and then Chris claps with him, and they start talking about it, and she takes this as an opportunity to stare at her fingernails.  
  
But she’s pulled out when Andy touches her arm with a “Babe?”  
  
So she sighs and asks _what_ , and Chris answers with a _this was fun! Let’s do it again. Soon._ and she’s prepared to pretend she’s gone deaf—there are limits, doesn’t he realize that?—when he says the magic phrase _my treat_.  
  
Which is how three days later they’re in the backseat of Chris’s silver whatever car, driving to Eagleton, which has a huge theater with fifteen screens.  
  
And if Chris thinks it’s weird that they’re agreeing to go to a movie with him he doesn’t say anything, even though just that afternoon April had been at lunch in the cafeteria, eating gross pizza and listening to Leslie and Tom get in a argument about something, that ended with Tom betting Leslie that it didn’t matter how long she’d been doing it, he was better at throwing parties, and while April was half-listening and mostly looking at her magazine Chris had entered, his geometrically-sound lunch chest in hand, and when he started for her table she shook her head ever so slightly, and he looked a little crestfallen before smiling again and picking a different table.  
  
But he said nothing, and texted her from his table, his eyes never leaving Donna, and invited her and Andy to the movie, and she waited a few minutes and accepted.  
  
They end up seeing _One for the Money_ since Andy loves pretending he’s read books and Chris loves Katherine Heigl—he and Ann used to watch _Grey’s Anatomy_ together, and Andy agrees that Ann used to love Detective Stabler and Chris looks like he wants to correct Andy but doesn’t. The movie’s terrible, even incompetent, so April spends most of it texting and throwing popcorn at the screen. When it’s over, Chris asks her what she thought, and she rolls her eyes. “No, Chris, it was just great. There was totally a plot that made sense, and the leads sure had a lot of chemistry for two cardboard cut-outs.”  
  
Chris, who clearly loved the entire thing, smiles and says, “We could go see another movie, if you want, as long as we’re here. Whatever you two want, because you two are the best for going out tonight.”  
  
“There are no good movies out, Chris.” April says, blowing her hair out of her face.  
  
“ _Iron Lady!_ ” Andy says. “Champion will be alright, right?”  
  
“Fine, whatever, Ben’s home making campaign posters or charts or something. I’ll text him, we’ll go see this movie.”  
  
Chris insists on buying additional tickets, since apparently he’s a real Pawnee Scout, and Andy gets her more popcorn, just in case.  
  
After two boring hours of history and old age makeup and, as it would turn out, a complete lack of talent for catching popcorn in her mouth, April’s glad to be done, and she gathers her stuff to leave the theater.  
  
Andy disagrees. “That was so cool. I don’t even care that Robert Downey Jr didn’t sign on for it.”  
  
Chris cocks his head, confused, so April explains, “He thought it was a sequel to _Iron Man_.”  
  
Andy’s still excited, though. “I can’t wait to bring this up with my Women’s Lasers professor.”  
  
“Your what?” Chris asks.  
  
April says, “He means Women’s Studies.”  
  
“That’s excellent, Andy,” Chris says, “What are you studying?”  
  
“We are building on last semester’s class, with a focus on,” Andy takes a moment to recall the exact wording. “’Women in institutions’ and we are talking about women and laws right now.”  
  
“That is fantastic, Andy!”  
  
“And my professor, she’s just the coolest, is going to love that I saw a movie about the president of England.”  
  
Chris turns to April instead of pursuing that. “And April, you’re in school, am I correct?”  
  
“I mean, sort of.”  
  
“What are you majoring in?” When she doesn’t answer, Chris adds an, “April?”  
  
She closes her eyes for a minute, but when she opens them she’s still in this conversation.  
  
“Nineteeth century French poetry.”  
  
“C’est fantastique! J’ai passé une semestre en France. Qui est ton poète francais préféré du dix-neuvième siècle?”  
  
“I was _kidding_ , Chris, god,” she says. “I’m majoring in Mandarin.”  
  
Chris opens his mouth, and she pre-interrupts him. “You do _not_ speak Mandarin.”  
  
“No, I don’t and I take it you don’t either.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Let me guess, then.”  
  
“Fine.” She crosses her arms, leans back against her car seat, and waits.  
  
He guesses political science, marine biology, and wildlife and fish management, all of which are wrong. He clearly is prepared to guess forever, and April’s prepared to let him, but Andy interrupts.  
  
“April’s still ‘exploring her options.’”  
  
Chris starts going on about how she can do anything she puts her mind to, and she leans against the window, tuning him out. When she starts listening again, he’s in the middle of a story about his sister and how she ended up a judge or a hobo or something, and April interrupts him again. “Sometimes, I think about being an EMT. It wouldn’t be boring.”  
  
And he’s off again, telling her he’s going to set her up with some EMTs so she can talk to them, and then he and Andy are talking about something, and she passes the rest of the car ride with her eyes closed.  
  
Somehow she keeps getting roped in to these movie evenings. They see _Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close_ and Chris cries and they see _Red Tails_ and both Chris and Andy cry and when they both suggest _Dolphin Tales_ she stares them down till they agree to see _The Gray_ instead.  
  
But it gets to be exhausting, babysitting Chris all the time. One day he gets mixed up, or else she and Andy are, and Chris shows up. It’s a Friday night, which means it’s time to stay home and make out with Andy.  
She goes to answer the door but Chris is already inside, and when he asks if they’re ready April feels—not guilty, exactly, but he’s making that sad puppy face. He barely even greets Ben when he walks in.  
  
“Chris, hey. What are you doing here? It’s not Tom’s thing tonight, is it?”  
  
Before Chris can answer, she grabs Ben and pulls him into the kitchen. “You’re taking Chris out tonight, right?” she asks. “Some post-break-up guys night, right?”  
  
“Am I?” Ben gets a panicked look. “I completely forgot.”  
  
“Why else would he be here?” She’s not _lying_ , exactly.  
  
Ben flexes his fingers, pulls out his Blackberry. “I don’t even have it in here. I don’t know where my head is, lately.”  
  
_He has been out of it_ , April thinks. “Put on your coat, you can’t have the house since Andy and I need it.”  
  
Later, when she wakes up in the middle of the night, she hears the two of them in the living room, talking in low voices, and she decides to ignore how thirsty she is and not go to the kitchen for water.  
  
The problem strikes the Friday after that, in a theater in Blythe.  
  
It starts out innocently enough. They’re leaving the theater, having just watched _The Artist_.  
  
“That was the _best_ movie I’ve seen all year,” Chris was saying, while they all stopped to put on their winter wear.  
  
“I wonder if they can give an Oscar to a dog because that was the cutest dog after our dog and maybe the dog from _Back to the Future_ ,” Andy says.  
  
“It was ok,” April adds, though actually she thought the love story was sweet.  
  
“The part that I do not understand,” Andy says, “Why wasn’t anyone talking?”  
  
Chris launches into a history of silent cinema when April sees Millicent. She’s laughing with some guy, a kind of generically hot guy, and they’re both standing at one of those tall tables on the periphery of the lobby. He touches her shoulder, and she leans over and kisses his cheek, and then walks over to the bathroom.  
  
“Distract Chris,” she mutters to Andy.  
  
“Chris, from where do your people come?” Andy asks  
  
April slides over to the guy.  
  
“Hey,” she says.  
  
“Do I know you?” He asks, looking her over.  
  
“You wish. You’re out with Millicent?”  
  
He glances around, a little nervous. “Do you know _her_?”  
  
“I bet she hasn’t introduced you to her father yet, huh?”  
  
He shakes his head.  
  
April pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through her pictures. “Have I got some stuff to tell you about…”  
  
Later, on the drive home, Andy’s asleep in the backseat, and for once Chris is actually quiet.  
  
“I saw what you did,” Chris says, his eyes glued to the road.  
  
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”  
  
“Sure you do.”  
  
She sighs. “He had to know the truth. Jerry is a menace.”  
  
Chris studies her for a moment. “Millecent’s a great woman. I wish her all the best and I hope she’s happy, even if it’s with someone else.” He pauses a beat. “That said, I did not try to stop that guy from leaving.”  
  
They both smile a little, and drive the rest of the way home in comfortable silence.


End file.
